The Definite Object: A Romance of New YorkFarnol, Jeffery
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The Definite Object: A Romance of New York
Farnol, Jeffery
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"Then, dear, won't you--will you kiss me?" Seeing she hesitated, he
sank back on his pillow and laughed a little ruefully. "I forgot these
confounded whiskers--I must look an unholy object. Patterson shall shave
me, and then perhaps--"
But sudden and warm and soft her arms were about him, and her eyes,
troubled no longer, gazed into his, brimful of yearning tenderness.
"Oh, my dear, my dear," she murmured, quick and passionate, "as if I
should ever care how you looked as long as you were--just you. My dear,
my dear, you have come back to me from the very gates of death because
I--I--"
"Because you nursed me so tenderly!"
"Ah, no, there were others to do that--no, God gave you back to me
because He is merciful, and because I love you--want you--need you so
much!"
"Oh, my Hermione--Kiss me!"
A knock at the door, and, quick-breathing, she drew from him as the
voice of Mrs. Trapes reached them.
"Ten minutes is up!" she announced as she entered, "and Hermy, if you
don't want th' doctor t' see you in your nightdress an' that--"
"Ann!" gasped Hermione, drawing the folds of her kimono about her.
"Anyway, he's coming."
Up sprang Hermione, in doing which she lost a slipper.
"Give it me!" she pleaded, for Ravenslee had caught it up.
"Dear, you have one--be content," he answered. "And surely I may kiss
my wife's slipper without you having to blush so--so deliciously,
Hermione?"
"It's so--old and shabby!" said she faintly.
"That's why I kiss it."
"An' here comes th' doctor!" said Mrs. Trapes. Whereat Hermione
incontinent fled away, white foot agleam. Then Ravenslee, having kissed
the little slipper quite brazenly under Mrs. Trapes's staring eyes,
tucked it beneath his pillow.
"Why, Mr. Geoffrey!" said Mrs. Trapes.
CHAPTER XXXVI
CONCERNING A CLEW
"Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee, laying aside the book he had been reading
and letting his glance wander across smooth lawns and clipped yew
hedges, "Mrs. Trapes, what about that stewed shin of beef with carrots
and onions you prepared for--our wedding supper?"
"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her everlasting knitting,
"which you never stopped to eat."
"Which omission I will now haste to rectify. Mrs. Trapes, pray go and
get it ready--I'm ravenous!"
"Good f'r you!" said Mrs. Trapes; "in about half an hour you shall have
a nice cup of beef tea to raven at--"
"Confounded slops!" growled Ravenslee.
"Doctor's orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, clicking her knitting needles.
"Can't I have something to chew at?"
"Sure. How'll a cracker soaked in milk soot?"
"Cracker!" snarled Ravenslee.
"Doctor's orders!"
Ravenslee muttered and took up his book.
"Helen who, did you say?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, glancing up. "Mr.
Geoffrey--I mean Ravenslee, I'm surprised at you--swearin' ain't good
for a invalid; your temperature'll be rose if you swear."
"But, my dear Mrs. Trapes, I'm hungry, very hungry--darned hungry!"
"Which is a sign as you're improvin' rapid. Beef tea'll be here soon."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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